


Some Merry Gentlemen (and One Merry Gentlewoman)

by Starlithorizon



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Christmas, Family, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Get Dressed Ye Merry Gentlemen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-15
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:18:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlithorizon/pseuds/Starlithorizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The crew of MJN Air was anticipating a lonely Christmas, but Arthur saves the day as only Arthur can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Martin's Unmerry Christmas

Captain Martin Crieff sat about, feeling lonely and dejected. It was Christmas Eve, though to be a bit more accurate, it was Christmas Eve Afternoon. The shared house was empty for the holiday, the only sounds drifting up to his drafty attic the sounds of the house settling. It heaved sighs to rival his in sheer unhappiness. He stayed in the cheerless attic, instead of spending his time in the cheerless house. He only went to the kitchen when he really had to.

Christmas was always a lonely holiday. Last year, he had been secretly grateful to be working over the holiday, and that he had been given a joyous celebration with his friends. This year, Carolyn had made good on a promise to Douglas and given them three days off, Christmas Eve through Boxing Day. It was an unprecedented kindness that made Martin ache with his hollowness.

His family lived too far away, mother and siblings living in and around London, and there was no way his rickety old deathtrap of a van could possibly make the trip. Not that Christmas with family was a common thing for him, anyway. He hadn't even seen them for three years. He was there when his niece was born, and that was the last time. He missed them, he did. But he certainly didn't miss his brother's digs at his jobs, his mother's tutting comments about how thin he is, his sister's falsely kind offers of money. It hurt, and it hurt even more than his dad wasn't there.

Last time he saw his family, he was a first officer at a cold airline that was, somehow, even less professional than MJN.

How wonderful that he had found a home with the company, a small collection of family didn't make any sense and didn't matter. Perhaps it wasn't just the fact that he was alone on Christmas, but that he wasn't with his found family.

Regardless, he was sure that Douglas having a wonderful time with his daughter and new girlfriend, laughing over a perfectly browned turkey, soft Christmas music playing in the background. The Shappey family was likely enjoying a similarly excellent holiday, just the two of them, probably sitting on the sofa and watching a film. Martin didn't even have a telly to watch, and he was not going to go down into the living room to watch the house telly. It was better to be lonely in a small space like his attic than an empty shared house.

He opened his current book, aspy novel that was ordinarily gripping. Tonight, however, he could barely get his eyes to focus on the text.

Tomorrow would be worse.

The air would be full of joviality and cheer, and he would just be sitting there in a freezing attic in a threadbare jacket and gloves. He half wished that he had a moving job, but no one ever moved on Christmas day. People hardly moved in December. Silly, stupid thing to wish for.

Eventually, he fell into an unhappy sleep, losing his page in a spy novel he couldn't bring himself to care about.

At eight in the morning, his mobile rang, dragging him sharply into the Land of the Waking. With eyes bleary and scratchy from sleep, he reached for the phone and jabbed at the Talk button.

"Icarus Removals," he said tiredly. He wished that his voice had sounded a bit more awake, in case it was a potential client, but he was surprised at the cheery laugh on the other end of the line. He should have checked the Caller ID first, but he could barely open his eyes.

"Morning, Skip," Athur said. "Do you think you can come to the airfield? I mean, if you're not busy?"

"Whyever for?"

"Just, can you come to the airfield, Skip? In, say, half an hour?"

Martin sighed deeply, feeling more hollow with every atom of carbon dioxide drifting out.

"Yes, see you then."

"Brilliant!"


	2. Douglas's Unmerry Christmas

Douglas Richardson, no longer owning the title of  _captain_ before his name, frowned darkly at the mobile still in his hand. He had just rung off with Ex-Wife Number Two, given the sort of bad news that he ought to have been used to by now. It hurt to be told that his daughter couldn't make it for Christmas. He had railed into the woman when she said that she and Hannah would be taking an impromptu trip to her parents' house, but that had helped nothing. It left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.

Now, he was forced to deal with the sense of  _alone_ that slunk around his flat like an unwelcome cat. There was a small array of Christmas films set out near the telly, waiting to be chosen and watched by an enthusiastic twelve-year-old. There were a few takeaway menus on the kitchen worktop, waiting to provide food that would be perfect when eaten to the tune of "Frosty the Snowman." And now all he could do was sneer at the Christmas tree all bedecked in nostalgia and festivity.

The latest girlfriend, Clairisse, hadn't lasted much longer than a couple weeks. She could tell that there was a deep, lingering sort of depression lurking just beneath the Sky God veneer, and she hadn't been able to take it. She'd left in the night. He hadn't been surprised when he woke up alone that morning.

His only family was his daughter, and she was on the way to visit family that wasn't him.

The last time he'd seen his daughter, he'd been struck with a huge wave of gratitude at simply having one afternoon with her. How cruel that it had come to that. Her mother, toad of a woman, got to see Hannah nearly every single day. He saw her growth in huge changes between visits. For his ex, the growth was imperceptable, something to take for granted. He had to hoard every tiny memory of his girl like a dragon with treasure, or a man expecting starvation. With his job and history of alcoholism, he knew that even  _thinking_ about contesting for custody was a ridiculous dream. He hated it, and it left him feeling hollowed out and empty.

He had to admit that he was lucky, despite all that. He  _did_ have a family, one that loved him unconditionally. He thought fondly of last Christmas.  _Both_ of them, the seven-minute celebration on G-ERTI and the longer, almost luxurious celebration on Moloka'i. It had been one of the best Christmases he'd ever had, honestly, and he was stuck in trying to decide whether or not that was just bloody pitiful.

Martin was probably feeling the sting of a lonely holiday, just as much as Douglas, but to ring and invite him over would probably make the younger man bristle in a silly attempt to maintain his pride or dignity or something. Carolyn and Arthur were probably having a nice holiday, at least. To interrupt that and ask to join them would be sad and ridiculous. No, Douglas Richardson could handle one lonely holiday. Hell, he could survive these three days and make it out stronger at the end of Boxing Day.

His eyes fell on the small, locked cupboard, the one he kept stocked for company. He never partook, and rarely even thought about it, but tonight it was difficult. Although, if he was being really honest with himself, tonight was damn near impossible.

Tomorrow would be worse.

The world would sing with the glee of children and goodwill towards men, and he would be sitting there in a dressing gown, staring down a bottle of whiskey. The only thing that kept the key to the lock in it's hiding place was the thought roaring through his head, the one thought that made him strong.  _Nine years, nine years, nine years_. _  
_

Eventually, he went to bed and fell into an uneasy sleep, letting the quiet mental murmur of _Let's make it ten years_ carry him.

He was woken five minutes past eight by the shrill ring of his mobile. He woke slowly, almost resentfully, and answered it.

"Yes?" he snapped down the line. He wished that he had answered with a bit less animosity, just in case it was Hannah, but he knew that it wasn't.

"Morning, Douglas!" Arthur trilled. "Can you come to the airfield in half an hour? You can bring your daughter!"

"She couldn't make it." The words sat like iron and lead in his stomach and throat.

"I'm sorry, Douglas," Arthur murmured, but he would not be deterred. "So can you come? In half an hour?"

A deep sigh that scooped him hollow. He felt positively empty.

"I'll be there."

"Brilliant!"


	3. Carolyn's Unmerry Christmas

Ms. Carolyn Knapp-Shappey sighed heavily. She was feeling so much lonelier than she would ever admit to feeling. She had Arthur, but tonight he was spending his Christmas Eve with a friend at one of Fitton's few pubs. Well, if  _few_ can be stretched to mean  _two_. Regardless of the number and definition thereof, Carolyn was well and truly alone on this night.

While Christmas was rarely a lonely holiday, it was one that made her feel something akin to bitterness. People were always so happy this time of year, and she needed distraction to bring herself up to that level of cheer. Being a divorceé was bad enough, but being one during the holiday season left her with a bad taste. How unfair that  _Gordon_  got to enjoy lo happy, lovely celebration every year while  _she_ had to struggle with her bitterness. At least she had Arthur, even if she didn't have him tonight.

Herc was probably busy, too. Well, all right, he was probably working, but even if he was free, she couldn't bear to be needy. Their... Well, whatever it was they had, it was new, and she didn't want to hurt it.

Her other family, her sister and brother-in-law, barely even crossed her mind.

She had to admit, even though she hated it, that she did have another family, separate from Arthur and bitter siblings. Martin and Douglas were more than friends, they were like brothers, or sons, or some bizarre combination of the two, the logistics of which looked better when ignored. She was intensely nostalgic of last Christmas.

Martin was probably slugging someone's Christmas tree or something, working himself to the bone, and in this weather. Douglas, who had requested the day off quite vehemently, was probably enjoying the evening with his girl. _She_ certainly hadn't left her father alone in favour of a pub.

She sighed again and turned on the telly. It was some ridiculous programme about how Christmas cheer is locked within each and every heart, and there was an obnoxious amount of singing. It was positively hateful to the jaded, cynical old woman.

Tomorrow would be worse.

The whole city would be hushed the way Christmas morning often was, and she would be enduring Arthur's overexcited chatter and caroling. It would be so much more bearable without the acid in her veins, but then, so would a lot of things.

She fell asleep to the strains of "O Holy Night," as sung by a boys' choir.

Approximately ten minutes after eight, her mobile rang. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and answered it.

"Hello, MJN Air," she said. She felt silly. What if it had been Herc or Arthur calling, instead of a potential customer? But if it was a customer, she would turn them down. She was getting soft.

"Morning, Mum!" the light of her life cried on the other end. "Can you come down to the airfield in half an hour?"

"What on earth are you doing at the airfield?"

"It doesn't matter. Just, half an hour, okay?"

Once again, she sighed. Idiot boy.

"Yes, fine, all right."

"Brilliant!"


	4. Arthur's Merry Christmas Eve

Arthur Shappy, steward and apple-tosser extraordinaire, smiled to himself as he pulled into the carpark. He had a plan, and it was a brilliant one (if he did say so himself). Usually, plans like this thrilled him completely and made him buzz with excitement, and that was the case here, but this one was more. It left him struggling to contain pleased laughter as he tried to contain it. It made him grin like a fool, but he couldn't care less.

Christmas was already brilliant, but this year would be _extra_  brilliant. Assuming, of course, that one could heap brilliance upon brilliance like that. Even if it wasn't possible, Arthur would try his hardest to make it happen. But it he was being really, truly honest, Christmas was _always_ brilliant, even if it wasn't spent in Hawaii or at home with a fire.

He didn't mind that he no longer spent the holiday with his dad. He hadn't had a Christmas with the only-all-right Gordon Shappey since he and his mum had divorced. He felt like he should hate the fact a little more, or at all, but he really didn't. Christmas belonged to him and Mum, and now Skip and Douglas, and even Herc. His little makeshift family.

He loved that he got to see his family every day. He knew that there were lots of people who weren't so lucky, so he appreciated it even more.

And how lucky he was! He had so many people who really, truly loved him, even when he was a clot. He needed them, because everyone needs family, but the beautiful part was that _they_ needed _him_. And not just for coffee and things! Even as an attentive ear and pair of arms a bit too prone to bear hugs, he was necessary to them. He was like the stuff that turned blood cells red, the stuff that carried oxygen through the body. What was it called? Something to do with goblins.

Goblins or not, he knew that Martin's Christmas would be less than kind without anyone to celebrate with. He knew that all the students were gone, and that the Skipper wasn't too close to his family, so he was almost certainly alone. Douglas was probably having a nice time with his daughter, though, which was why he was making himself wait for Christmas proper to unveil his grand plan. And Mum was probably enjoying the evening with Herc, so it all would work out well for everyone. Even Skip. His grin widened as he got out of the car to work on his brilliant plan. This was the fun bit, really.

Tomorrow would be so much better.

The day would dawn like any other day, with bits of pink and orange and gold, but with a sort of hopeful tint to it. There would be extra gold as it streamed through people's windows, tinged pearly grey with the cold but all the lovelier. Everyone woud wake up smiling and eager and peaceful.

Arthur didn't sleep that night. There was too much to do, and he had too much energy.

He made four phone calls, one after another, and gave them their orders. Everyone complied without much cajoling, which was nice, and Christmas would be _perfect_.

Brilliant!


	5. A Merry MJN Crew

One by one, the cars pulled into the carpark. Arthur grinned as his family trickled in, each looking confused, and perhaps a bit worried. He hustled out of the tower and to where G-ERTI was was waiting in her Christmas finery. Everyone would find their way without any extra help. That's what the notes and arrows were for.

Every bulb was burning, and in the twilight darkness of the hangar, the lights reflected merrily from the tinsel and silvery ornaments. The table was cast in a colorful glow, and the steaming breakfast goodies (brought to Arthur the got before by Dirk's wife, reheated in the micro that morning) looked extra inviting. There was proper mulled wine, no Tic-Tacs in sight. There were stockings hung from the wall with care, knowing full-well that Arthur was there. There were piles of presents under the tree, some of which had come from his house, the rest he'd found in the plane to be given on the 27th.

Bing Crosby sang quietly in the corner, and the heating was on in the hangar, which his mum normally raged about, but the ground crew had chipped in the ease the burden to almost nothing. The whole Fitton airfield was in on this.

"Arthur? Arthur, where— Goodness."

Martin had walked into the hangar and paused at the sight of the glowing aeroplane. Wrapping her in lights had taken most of the night, but it was _so_ worth it. The wreaths added a nice, homely, evergreen smell to the mix that the tree lacked. To be fair, the tree was fake. And blue.

"Merry Christmas, Skip!" the steward cried. He grinned hugely at his captain, who couldn't help smiling in return.

"Arthur, did you do all this?" Skip seemed a bit in awe, walking around the space and taking in all the lights, the tree, the table. Arthur wasn't sure how Skip felt seeing his craft all bedecked, but it didn't look like he felt badly about it.

"I had a bit of help from the ground crew, but yeah."

"It's amazing."

Arthur wrapped the Supreme Commander in a bear hug, and Martin let out a little squeak at being squashed so much so soon. Whoops.

Shortly after Arthur released Martin, the first officer came swaggering into the hangar. He looked around, let out a low whistle, and grinned. There were shadows under his eyes, though. He clearly hasn't slept much, and not from excitement like Arthur. Last night must have been a bad one for him. Hopefully, this would rectify that.

After more cheerful greetings, Herc arrived, and then Carolyn. With his family surrounding him, both makeshift and blood, Arthur felt like he should be glowing with love. Positively incandescent. Everyone was impressed with his doings (even after his mum, after calling him an idiot boy for wrapping the plane in lights), and it felt good to know that his efforts had been accepted. Appreciated, even.

"Should we do presents first, or breakfast?" Arthur asked, clapping his hands together, feeling a peculiar sense of authority as he did so. Everyone agreed to food first, particularly the rumbling of poor Skip's belly.

The feast was a hearty one, and everyone felt especially warm and cheerful with their company. They opened presents, sang carols, laughed so much. It felt like the entire group should be cast with a golden light, illuminating everything and warming this dreary winter day. Outside the hangar, it was snowing. Families were starting to feel the strain of an awkward obligation, children were growing bored with their toys, but in here, everything was diffused with the easy peace of the family that one chooses. That was all anyone really needed, on Christmas, or any other day.

Everyone went home that night (with the exception of Carolyn, who went home with Herc), hearts buoyed by the gentle glow of their Christmas Day, and the promise of an equally sweet Boxing Day. It became more obvious than ever that day that the creatures belonging to MJN Air weren't just a crew bound together by duty and a pay packet. No, they were a family, bound together by kind, loving brilliance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things got a bit sappy, and I love it. A familial MJN is a good MJN.  
> Also, I'm not the only one who's wrapped G-ERTI in Christmas lights. Unfortunately, I can't remember the name of the fic, or the author (eep!), but if you're curious, I can hunt for it. Or you can. Either way.


End file.
